


my body tells me no

by voidsciles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Shots, Fluff and Angst, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-22 13:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2509235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidsciles/pseuds/voidsciles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Scott and Stiles dress up as Walt and Jesse from Breaking Bad for a Halloween party and Stiles unexpectedly discovers his true feelings for his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> before you begin please note that this was something i didn't really plan on writing + i haven't written a fic since ancient times so it's messy and probably most definitely could be better but i just wanted to get the first chapter out before halloween but yeah i hope you do enjoy it regardless!

"How about this?"

Stiles leans down to grab the light pink and fluffy bunny ears that have been misplaced in the basket of plastic samurai swords, before turning around at the sound of his best friend’s voice.

He's surprisingly faced with a gun barrel pointing straight for the center of his forehead and stumbles back a few steps, almost failing to regain his balance as a rubber (what Stiles presumes is supposed to be scary) zombie hand is lying messily on the floor behind his left foot. Scott puts down the gun and has the biggest smirk on his face, a laugh bursting out from the back of his throat as their eyes meet.

Scott has on a bright red cowboy hat that resembles Andy's from Toy Story and it's much too small for his head and he looks ridiculously stupid but also so damn cute at the same time. Stiles is blushing from his previous clumsiness and the fond look Scott is now giving him.

"Aw, Stiles!" He shuffles forward and strokes the one floppy bunny ear with his fingers, "you are the cutest bunny rabbit I have ever seen!" Scott mimics a bunny chewing on a carrot and laughs at himself before throwing the gun back where it came from.

Stiles rolls his eyes but laughs along nonetheless, because Scott's laugh is heavy and contagious and he has to do something to cover up this insane nervousness that's erupting from center of his stomach. It’s a nervousness Stiles has never really experienced with Scott before, so instead of dealing with it he tries his best to ignore it.

"Shut up," He slaps Scott's hand away as he tries to reach for the ear again, "at least I don't look like I have a giant head." He grabs the hat teasingly, waving it around in his face before hanging it back up with the others.

Scott gasps in sarcastic shock as he stares at his best friend, eyes wide and jaw hanging as if Stiles had just said an extremely rude comment. But Scott was just being stupid and playful. He was just being Scott and man, did Stiles love it. He loves the silliness and banter they would share almost every day. He loves the way Scott brought out this insane, happy bubbliness that Stiles always forgets he has. He radiates the whole who-gives-a-shit-what-anybody-thinks-of-me feeling when he’s with Scott, and he treasures the moments he feels that way. Days and nights with Scott were Stiles' favorite sort of days. So, to be fair, almost every day what Stiles' favorite day.

"We seriously need to find a costume Scotty," He threw off the bunny ears before wandering into the next aisle full of new costumes and decorations. It's been a while since they both went full out on Halloween, usually they'd do a stay at home scary movie marathon, drive to their friends’ homes when they needed a good candy fix, but it was a good 5 years ago since they'd really dressed up and got into the true Halloween sort of spirit. They hadn't really intended this to be a thing again this year, it was mostly Lydia and her 6 month Halloween party planning that had them at a costume shop at 10 AM in the morning. And not to mention, on the day of the actual party. Because if they didn't show up in a full on costume, Lydia would never forget it and they were confident with that thought.

"I thought you looked pretty damn cute in those bunny ears. All you need now is a poofy tail and some drawn on whiskers and I think we've got your costume all sorted. I could go as an egg. You’d be my Easter bunny.” 

Stiles wanted to roll his eyes so badly (like, crazy badly.) but shit Scott was so god damn adorable and he could feel his presence only a few centimeters away and not to mention he had just called him cute. Stiles had a hate/love relationship when it came to Scott calling him cute.

"Dude, it's not Easter. And I want to go as something cool. This party is going to be huge, and Lydia probably has some ridiculous outfit already set up for us that she will force us to wear if we don't show up in something mildly decent."

Scotts frown transformed its way into a smile as he grabbed a fireman’s hat, which was this time too big for his head and posed for Stiles.

"Firemen?" And god, why does Scott do this to him? Because firemen?! What's next, policemen? Sexy nurse, then stripper? He almost passed out at the thought of Scott half naked. And sure he's seen it many times before but that doesn't mean he doesn't get a little flustered when it happens.

He tried to ignore any inappropriate images from crawling into the midst of his thoughts as he grabbed for a zombie costume that was sealed in its packet, "Something scary?"

Scott pouted at the costume before sliding past Stiles to walk into the next aisle. Stiles followed like a baby sheep.

"I wanna go as something not scary." Stiles stared at Scott’s back as he followed him down the aisle, half making sure there wasn’t anything lying hazardously on the ground and half staring at the muscles of Scott’s back through his shirt that flexed and pulled together every time he took a step forward. Scott turned abruptly and without warning almost causing their chests to bump together, and if Stiles heart skipped a beat, nobody but himself had to know.

"Okay." was all Stiles could helplessly and embarrassingly reply with when he realised that he hadn’t given a worded answer. Scott's smile grew insanely wide and he still had that stupid fireman hat on and shit. When was he so damn whipped for Scott like this? Stiles was losing his mind.

***

Another hour and a half in the costume shop and the two of them were extremely close to giving up, until the owner finished off with a few other customers and made her way over to help them decide. She was a short, tan, sporty looking girl with a pixie cut and Stiles watched along as Scott walked with her to the back of the room, both of them laughing and chatting about something that Stiles was too distracted to get involved with.

"We've had some new stock come in and I was hesitant on putting it on display because I want the right kind of people to wear these costumes." They were at the very back of the shop, all three of them standing by a door that was marked 'Staff Only' in bold black writing on a blue and glittery piece of plastic.

"Is that weird of me?" She asked as she fumbled with her keys to unlock the door.

Scott flashed his famous charming smile, "Not at all. Though I'm hoping you telling us that means you think we're both special enough to wear one of these costumes?"

She grinned back, "I would have to say you're correct."

They both waited in silence as she went into the room, Scott carelessly twirling a fairy wand between his fingers and Stiles rocking back and forth on his feet as he listened to the sounds coming from the room. He couldn’t help but think Scott would look ridiculously good in a tutu and fairy wings.

She returned a few moments later with a clothing rack trailing behind, her body looking smaller and more fragile pulling such a large object. She stopped it once the rack was directly towering in front of them.

Everything was zipped up in bags so they stood by and watched as she shuffled through each one, checking the tags and muttering to herself as she pushed away the ones she didn't want with so much force it was almost weird seeing someone have so much passion in trying to find a piece of clothing. Maybe it was a girl thing, he thought. But then Stiles remembered that one time he couldn’t find his favorite jumper and almost threw half of his wardrobe out trying to do so. (It was not so surprisingly one of Scott’s jumper’s that he never gave back.)

Scott was standing close to Stiles' left side now and behind the scrapping sound of coat hangers on metal, he could hear Scott breathing steadily next to him. He tried not to make it obvious when he leaned over to _accidentally_ brush his arm against Scott's, which (thank god the plan worked) caused him to glance over at him with smiling eyes.

"Ah!" the sudden shrill sent Stiles insides jumping in shock and the girl was pulling away two zip bags, then turned around to shake them in front of Scott and Stiles excitedly. She was beaming and Stiles couldn't help but smile back.

"You two will look adorable in these." And yeah. Now Stiles was really smiling.

"What's the costume?"

"I was going to make you try it on and see for yourself. But I want to see your reaction. Plus, there is a possibility you have no idea where the costume comes from. So unzip and reveal!"

They both looked at each other and shrugged simultaneously before taking the bags and unzipping them in sync. (God. Stiles couldn't help but think they were somehow connected in the brain or something with the way they do things at the same time and pace.)

As soon as Stiles pushed the bag away, he was staring down at a bright yellow hazmat suit and his eyes widened and his smile grew so wide that it was already starting to strain his cheeks and he could feel Scott's eyes burning into the side of his face, so he turned to create eye contact and. Stiles almost jumped on Scott. For many reasons, but the one in that moment being that he was now filled with this feeling of complete and utter excitement because, one, it's been a while since he and Scott did anything like this together and two, Scott's eyes were sparkling and he has Stiles' favorite smile plastered on his face and three, this was the best costume ever.

He almost ran and jumped on the girl then, too.

***

"Bro, we look fucking sick."

They were both back at Stiles' place getting ready. The girl who had helped them at the costume shop also gave them the blue gloves, the mask and a black hat and glasses to complete the outfit.

They were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, hazmat suits and masks on as they stared at their reflections.

"I totally feel like a drug dealer." Stiles said, comment muffled by the mask but still clear enough for Scott to hear as he laughed in response.

"I know, right? But I think we should not wear the masks. I can't fucking breathe in this thing."

Stiles took it off after Scott and watched as he grabbed for his inhaler. He knew how much Scott hated having asthma, just as much as Scott knew how much Stiles hated having panic attacks. Their sympathy and support for each other was something they both treasured.

"We can just hang them on the suit somehow. I don't think the outfit would be the same without them."

They both wandered back into Stiles' room and fell onto his bed. Stiles' dad was still back at the station taking the graveyard shift for work, which wasn't even close to being out of the ordinary in this family. He knows how much his dad enjoys his job and how they need the money and all, but he constantly feels the distance expanding between them and aches for the closeness they once had. He doesn't show it. He doesn’t show it when his dad is still not home at 6 in the morning, or when someone comes over and asks where his dad is. He likes to keep that sort of thing to himself. And if Scott notices it, he hasn't mentioned it yet.

"Who's going to be Walt?" Stiles was playing with the black hat and glasses in his hands, wondering how ridiculous he'd look in the attire.

He heard Scott hum next to him, he was laying on his bed while Stiles was sitting up crossed legged, and Scott went to the effort to bump his leg into his knee at any chance he got. Which was every few seconds. But Stiles wasn't complaining, he thoroughly enjoyed the contact.

"I think you should be. You kind of give off that Heisenberg vibe."

"What's that supposed to mean? Do I really give off a sneaky, meth loving bald man vibe? I thought I'd be more of a Jesse. You know, lonely and kind of not always there in the brain area.”

"Hey!" Scott bumped his leg harder into his knee this time, "don't talk shit about Jesse Pinkman."

Stiles looked over at him with eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape as if that was the most offending thing anyone had ever said to him.

"As if I would talk shit about Jesse fucking Pinkman," He slapped Scott's thigh with the hat, "He's my favourite and you know it."

Scott was smiling, his eyes squinting as he looked at Stiles from his laying position, "I know. You're Jesse and I'm Walt but." He sat up without warning then, swinging his leg over Stiles' knee and snatching the hat and reading glasses (they didn't want the black ones, the both agreed that they didn't like the idea of wearing sunglasses to a party at night time.) from him. He first placed the hat on Stiles' head and then slipped the glasses on seconds after, one side of them bumping into his ear which caused them both to giggle, breath blowing out to mingle between them before touching each other’s noses. Which is when Stiles realised just how close they were. And also realised how much control Scott had over him because he didn't even move an inch or try to protest, even after cringing to himself at the thought of wearing these items. No, Stiles was in way too deep. And he wasn't even entirely sure what he was even way too deep in.

Scott leaned back as if to examine his masterpiece, his grin growing a touch with every new feature his eyes scanned and Stiles swore, he god damn swore he stopped and stared at his lips for longer than he had his nose, eyes, or forehead. Or maybe that was just his mind playing tricks on him because why would Scott do that? His lips were nothing new. They were lips and they didn't need staring at. Though, he strongly wished they did.

"You look so cute in those glasses. And the hat. You suit it."

Heat gathered at the base of his neck and travelled all around his cheeks and down his arms. And Fuck, he hated being pale. He lost his summer tan too early.

"Whatever. I don't wanna look cute," he tried to shift but Scott locked his knee tighter around his own, "I want to look badass like Walt. He's like level 10 scary. No one would buy meth from him if he looked cute."

Scott threw his head back in laugher and okay, Stiles was not ready for that at all. He was so not ready for a full on view of Scott's extremely sexy neck and how can necks even be sexy? How can his best friend laughing at one of his jokes make him want to smile and become all flustered? These sort of feelings have never happened so strongly before and it was freaking Stiles out. It was like every small thing Scott did, every little bit of physical contact they shared has Stiles insides flipping. He found himself analyzing every inch of the feeling of Scott's body touching his, he over thought the nice things Scott would say to him that he began to wonder if he'd even said them in the first place. Everything about Scott was becoming the death of him and it was not fun. Stiles wanted out.

"Fine, Stiles White. You look terrifying. If you came up to me on the street looking like that, I'd run. I'd run for the hills. I'd run over the hills and to the cow house and live with the cows until you were arrested." Stiles was laughing now too, his body uncontrollably shaking under Scott which caused him to having to keep moving his leg back into a comfortable position. He was basically sitting in Stiles' lap now.

"But I wouldn't run before giving you a kiss on the cheek first, because you seriously look adorable."

Stiles' laughter slowed and he thanked god for his laughing fit, because he could blame his loss of breath and the flush in his cheeks on that and not on the true reason of it being because Scott just called him adorable. Oh and that he'd said kiss him. Though Stiles wasn’t sure where that comment had even come from because, okay, _sure_ they’ve called each other adorable and sexy before but not more than once every few weeks. This sort of behaviour coming from Scott was new and Stiles reaction to it was not one he was quiet enjoying. In fact, it was just confusing him. And every time he tried to mend the muddle and misinterpretation that lounged in his brain, Scott would throw another unexpected compliment or small act of contact that would get him all flustered and weird again.

Stiles tried to rack at the corners of his brain for a smart ass response, but the words that flew out of his mouth without too much thought sounded awkward and forced after the beat too long of a silence that hung between them.

"What is with you today," He forced out a small laugh, "You keep calling me cute and adorable and you're all snuggly with me."

Scott shrugged, "I don't know. I didn't realise I was acting any different to what I usually am. Do you not like it?"

He shrugged back because well. Maybe it was just Stiles that was acting different. It was probably most definitely Stiles, now that he thought about it.  But even realising that now, his cheeks still began to feel as if they were about to burn off with the amount of heat that was forming underneath the skin. He was overly thankful Isaac wasn't here right now, otherwise he would have openly pointed out the new colour that painted Stiles' face.

"No, you're not. I guess. Maybe it's just me. I don't know either. It's nice, I like it. Not in a weird way. I mean, it's always been nice. Because this is nothing new, you know?"

Scott stared at him for a while, a small smile playing on his lips as they now both looked into each other’s eyes. Not romantically, Stiles thought, just well - staring. And he wanted more than anything to look away because the thought of them gazing at one other romantically was catching up to him and he really didn't want his blush to deepen any more than it already was. Plus he felt like he needed to prove a point. The point being that if he stared back at Scott like this, he'd be showing him that nothing between them was unfamiliar to how it normally is and that Stiles totally isn't like, forming a unusual and unexpected and nerve wrecking crush on his best friend because that would be new. That would be different. And Stiles wasn't very ready for such a thing.

***

They were close to leaving for Lydia's party. She had called them earlier, asking if they could go over to the house early and help set up some of the decorations. Stiles decided he'd rather stay at his place, lounging on his bed with his legs tangled amongst Scott's as they re-watched their favourite episodes of Breaking Bad together. So he simply lied and told her that they couldn't make it.

They had both already finished dinner, his dad had dropped by quickly to see how their costumes were going and his first response when he saw them was, "cleaners?" and Stiles would have given him the biggest eye roll he could prosper but his dad was holding a bag full of Chinese takeout so he forced it back and instead laughed it off.

"You ready, Heisenberg?"

They were back in the bathroom now, standing next to each other in front of the mirror as they fixed up their costumes and cleaned off the sweet and sour pork sauce that Scott had dropped on his hazmat suit while arguing about who was the better girlfriend for Jesse. (Scott thought Jane while Stiles thought Andrea.)

"No," Stiles fixed the hat on his head and frowned at his reflection, "I look like an idiot."

He watched through the glass as Scott turned to face him. It was weird watching them interact in the mirror, because Stiles could see every inch and feature of his face, as well as Scott's. He could see how his appearance changed, how they moved together, how it looked when they would carelessly bump shoulders. It was like watching a movie of the shy, awkward, confused boy who was secretly crushing on his best friend. And to Stiles it all showed through his face, the way he flushed when Scott would complement him, the way he'd go completely out of his way to have the slightest bit of contact with him, or how he'd watch Scott's face intently when he threw his head back in laughter. If he could see it all clearly through the mirror, did that mean that Scott could see it too? He prayed to god he couldn't.

He was still watching them through the mirror, too scared to turn to Scott and face him with his own eyes. He felt safe looking straight ahead, being aware of his expression and actions. He could at least control himself a little easier like this.

But Scott was just staring at him, his eyes hard and jaw set and looking as if he was waiting for Stiles to finally pluck up enough courage to turn, but when he didn't Scott brushed his fingertips lightly on Stiles' elbow. Even with the hazmat suit on, his skin burned under the touch.

"Stiles, don't be a douchebag." He watched his face as Scott said that trying his best to keet his expression blank. The hat on his head was crooked and the glasses made him look younger.

"I'm not." He responded, hardly moving his mouth. Scott was grabbing at his elbow now.

"You are," Scott answered, adding emphasis on the ‘ _are’_. "You're being a shit. I hate it when you think you look bad, or stupid, I just hate it when you put yourself down."

Stiles watched his lips twitch upwards and fixed his hat before reacting, "I wasn't putting myself down. I just think I look weird in these glasses. Don't need to get all sentimental on me, Scotty."

He finally looked away from his reflection so Scott could see that he was smiling.

He got a smile back, but it wasn't one that Stiles favoured. It sort of looked sad, unfocused. Stiles mentally captured the look and locked it in the back of his brain where he kept all of the ‘Things that should not be associated with Scott’ part of his brain.

"Fine. Just stop saying you look stupid because if I hear it one more time, I will kick your meth loving ass." They both turned back to the mirror at the same time, watching each other.

"Not if I kick yours first, Jesse."

And he was grinning, big and bright and beautiful and Stiles loved it. He loved that he could cause Scott to do that, to turn his saddened look into one of pure contentment instead. He locked these happy smiles and expressions in a different part of his brain.  

"We’ll see.” He smirked and faced Stiles to fix his glasses, even though they were fine how they were in the first place. Then he was leaning forward, his lips brushing Stiles' ear ever so slightly that if he hadn't been focusing on Scott's every movement, he may not have even felt it. His breath was creeping down the back of his neck and into his hair before he whispered, "By the way, you look adorable. Bitch."

***

They both arrived at the party almost an hour after it started due to the previous events that happened in the bathroom that had Stiles choking on his forced laughter as he tried to subtly back away from Scott, because that much proximity was having his legs feel as if they were about to turn into jelly and slither into a heap beneath him.

It was already packed, literally half of beacon hills gathered at one big place, clad in half-assed to extraordinary costumes. Some people were already stumbling around the place, one boy dressed as a teenage mutant ninja turtle already passed out on the floor. They'd come across a few people who had yelled things like, "Hey, it's fucking Heisenberg!" or "Yo Jesse, bitch! Magnets!" and of course a handful of them jokingly asked for some meth. Stiles couldn't help but laugh and play along with them all, the idea of him looking ridiculous in his glasses and hat completely slipping from his brain as a group of girls dressed as the power puff girls demanded a picture with them.

Further into the house, towards the dance floor and bar, it became much more crowded. The music was blasting throughout the entire house, creeping up every crack and corner and bouncing off every wall. The orange beams and laser lights shot past Stiles' vision like shooting stars. As they both found themselves smack bang in between the bar slash kitchen and dance floor, he found himself almost tumbling on all the red cups that had been mindlessly abandoned on the floor, causing Scott to grab at his arm every time he made the clumsy action. It was the first time Stiles almost enjoyed falling flat on his face.

"You made it!" Lydia was shuffling hurriedly towards them with her arms wide open, pushing past anyone who even dared to fall into her path. She was wearing one of Cher Horowitz’s most beloved outfits from the movie Clueless. The yellow-ness bringing out the shine in her orange hair and the glow of her long lasting summer tan.

"Oh my god," Scott yelled over the music after they'd both given Lydia a hug, "We're all yellow. Like human bananas!"

Stiles and Lydia laughed before she took a quick swig of her drink. Stiles could definitely use one too. Or maybe five.

"You two," She pointed at them both with her cup, "I'm surprised. I thought you'd slack off, but you look great! Cutest matching couple I've seen all night." She beamed at them as if she just hadn't called them a couple, but to Stiles that was something he couldn't just immediately shake off. No, he had to replay the words in his head like a broken record. He had to force out a laugh that didn't sound like him at all. He had to overthink every movement he made because he thought that if he made the wrong one, Scott was sure to find out what was running through Stiles’ mind. And though it sounded completely unrealistic, Stiles couldn't help but think that one wrong move could blow his cover completely. He wasn't even entirely sure what his cover even was. Because one minute he's hanging out with his best friend and the next he was wishing he was making out with his best friend. And sure, he may have felt these little twinges of more-than-friend emotion towards Scott before, but it was always something he could sleep on. But today it felt like Stiles had been awake for weeks and was pressured to feel and endure every romantic feeling he had towards Scott. Yeah, screw five drinks. He needed ten.

"Thanks, we know." Scott answered as he threw his arm over Stiles' shoulder and pulled him in for a side hug. Stiles barked up another half fake half nervous laugh, his back and shoulders tingling with a new sort of warmth and sensation from the contact. He was happy when Scott left his arm there, but he also couldn't wait for him to let go because he was started to get jumpy and sweaty.

"And you Stiles, you are the sexiest Heisenberg I've ever seen." She winked at him and left with a tipsy twirl and a giggle as she wandered away from them, instantly becoming invisible as she got sucked into the black hole of a crowd.

"See," Scott's face was turned to him now, his arm still set tightly around the space of his upper back and shoulders. With them so tightly tucked together like this like two perfectly fitting puzzle pieces and their necks both craned to look at one another, Stiles could smell the minty-ness that puffed from Scott's mouth to socialize with his own staggered breaths, he could see deep into Scott's eyes and could trace each and every line and splotch of colour with his mind. Though that's only if he had had enough courage to look into his eyes for that long.

"I told you that you don't like stupid. People are throwing compliments at you from left to right."

"You're not jealous, are you Scott? Regretting not wearing the glasses?"

Scott's laugh basically punched Stiles in the face. He could see it up close, he could hear it crawl up the back of Scott's throat and blast past his lips. He could hear it ringing in his ears and feel it travelling into the midst of his memories.

"Definitely not. I wouldn't be able to pull them off as well as you do."

Stiles flushed and smiled before mumbling a small, "Thanks."

Scott moved his arm from his shoulders to place his hand on the small of Stiles' back and was still grinning at him as if he had just heard outstanding news.

"Drink?"

And Stiles found himself nodding like a maniac and leading the way to the bar, Scott's hand still lingering on his back as he helped maneuver them both through the dancing bodies.

***

Four and a half shots down (half because in the middle of taking one a guy with a sheet over his head, as if to typically be a ghost, decided to bump into him at the wrong time.) and a handful amount of full red cups of beer and they were standing with Allison who was dressed as catwoman and Isaac who was Spiderman, sharing inappropriate jokes and random acts of banter together.

Stiles had definitely had a lot more to drink than Scott who only had two shots and half a cup of whatever he had decided to pour into it. And because Stiles was unfortunately a horrible lightweight, he found himself putting all of his weight to one leg, being too lazy to hold himself up with both. Scott was on the side Stiles was leaning more over to and if he made that happen on purpose, nobody had to know but himself.

"No, no! The best bitch line that Jesse ever said was definitely the one where he's like, 'Where's my money, bitch.' And then repeated it like one hundred times over."

"You're wrong. You're so wrong dude. It's definitely the 'So roll me further, bitch.' Come on. Like, come on! Allison agrees with me, right?"

Allison just nodded with her lips sealed around the edge of her cup that contained a pink liquid which tasted sweet and fruity. Kind of how Stiles imagined Scott to taste. That seemed like the best way Stiles could rack his brain for a poetic explanation for how he thought kissing Scott may be like. He'd taste either minty or fruity, and after kissing him he would be drunk from it. Maybe he needed some of what Allison was chugging down since to him that's the closest he'll ever get to tasting Scott.

"You're both forgetting the best one! It's, 'I wanted to leave them on the counter, bitch!'"

Scott lifted up his drink as if celebrating a brand new invention that would change the world. He grabbed Stiles' shoulder with his free hand and went in to knock their cups together.

"That's the fucking one!"

Isaac rolled his eyes but managed a smile nonetheless, refilling up their cups until the frothy liquid spilled over the edges and dribbled down their hands.

Stiles took a long swig, the cup never leaving his mouth because he needed this. He needed to be intoxicated and leave behind these feelings for Scott, he needed to leave behind this new reality that had hit him out of nowhere like a loaded truck. If that meant getting completely and utterly wasted until he was dragging himself around in the morning like a dead corpse, then so be it.

"Whoa, whoa dude," He felt someone pull his drink away, what he managed to get into his mouth slid down every inch of his throat and landed in his stomach hard and fast. The liquid buzzed through his veins and snuck its way into the every sober part of his mind.

"Slow down, Stiles. You don't want to hurt yourself."

"It's just a beer Scotty, come on! I'm fine. I'm fine. It's only like my third one. Or fifth. I'm fine!"

Scott's eyebrows furrowed and he looked like a pouting puppy. Stiles hated him for a split second.

"Just slow down, okay? I don't want to be dragging your unconscious body out of here when your brain can't keep up with you anymore."

Stiles rolled his eyes in the way he could if it was his dad standing there telling him this. It was nice that Scott was being so protective over him, it was nice to know Scott cared enough. Though he also wished he wouldn't care just for the rest of the night, he wished Scott would let him slip away from his real thoughts and let the alcohol do its job.

"Don't be a party pooper. I wanna do shots. More shots. Shots shots shots."

"Body shots!"

His whole body whipped around to face Allison who was staring at him wide-eyed and with excitement crawling all over her features. He stared back at her with just as much enthusiasm and grabbed her by the wrist to pull her towards the benches in the kitchen before yelling to the crowd around him, "Body shots!"

Once he announced it, there were already dozens of people following Stiles and Allison to the least messy island that sat in between the kitchen and the pool tables that had mostly become for beer pong.

The surface is already cleared completely before Stiles can even decipher what is going on, Allison is unzipping her costume and pulling away the tight black fabric from her skin to reveal much more than Stiles has ever seen.

Stiles and Allison are friends. They're pretty good friends, actually. But they weren't so close to the lengths that she'd go to his place or he'd go to her place just to hang out and talk like he would with Scott or Lydia. Sure, they've hung out alone before and all that but their friendship was just a little different. So seeing her half naked was something Stiles never expected to happen. Ever.

His brain was struggling to catch up on what was happening around him, legs wobbly and weak and ears ringing, mixing with the sounds of chants and loud music. Stiles stumbled forward without even realising it, he thinks he was laughing but he wasn't too sure. Everything was spinning.

Allison kept her bra on which he silently thanked her and he couldn't help but let his eyes scan her from head to toe. Stiles felt his throat go dry. All he could think about was Scott, which completely freaked him out even more than he was already. Where was Scott? Did he follow him after his drunken mind took over his vocal box to bellow out an idea he wasn't even sure he was comfortable with? Stiles didn't even exactly know how to even do a body shot. He knew what it required but what came first again? Stiles head spun even more, he thought it was going to twist off like in a horror film. (And wouldn’t that just be a huge contribution to the Halloween spirit.) Was Scott watching him now? Was he laughing, was he angry? Was he joining in the people behind him who was pushing Stiles forward, chanting and yelling frantically in his ear as if he couldn’t hear them enough already?

Allison leaned up on her elbows expectantly and looked at Stiles with a small smile on her face. He wasn't sure if it was supposed to be sexy or reassuring. He decided to go with the latter to help him get through this.

There was a lined up on the marble bench salt, lime and a shot of tequila and okay. Stiles sort of knew what to do but if he stuffed it up he'd blame his drunken brain for his mistake. He think he's seen people do body shots in movies. He desperately racked his brain for whatever memories weren't clouded with alcohol.

He decided to just follow in which order the objects were lined up in, so he grabbed the salt and leaned forward, eyeing up and down Allison's body. He felt like he wasn't allowed to do that, he felt like he was interfering with every corner of Allison's privacy. He sucked in a sharp breath before deciding on the neck, licking there and sprinkling a bit of salt on top. That caused wolf whistles and a few hard slaps of encouragement, so at least Stiles did the first step right. He followed his plan and went for the wedge of lime first, gently placing it in Allison's mouth with shaky and sweaty hands. She helped him when he almost missed her mouth, laughing with her as they both struggled to keep their movements steady. At least it was Allison and not some random girl he'd never met before, Stiles thought. He took the final object, the shot, and heard someone to his left slurring, "cleavage, cleavage!" so he followed the voice's orders. In one swift movement he placed the shot between her cleavage and she lifted her chest as if to squeeze it better in place. Stiles felt himself flush. The next thing he knew people were singing his name, backing away to give him space and fuck this was really it and Stiles was sweating as if he'd just run a marathon. His first instinct was to unzip his hazmat suit down to his waist so the top half of him, only covered with a white tank top, could get some fresh air. It only caused more wolf whistles.

Stiles couldn't take the burning of his skin and the buzz in his bones so he dove right in, licking the salt off her neck and letting his tongue linger longer than the salt had lasted. This was his first time doing a body shot and if people wanted a show, he would give them one. Plus, he wasn’t even sure if he had much of a choice anymore. He was drunk and hopelessly horny.

He moved down to her cleavage next, his lips only just hovering over her skin. He opened his mouth wide and clasped the shot tightly between his lips before flicking his head up swiftly, the liquid burning down his throat like acid, dripping into his stomach and adding to the blurriness of his sensible thoughts. Someone snatched the shot glass out of his mouth before he could himself, and before he even had a second to think about it he was diving for lime wedge, his lips connecting with Allison's for the slightest moment and he thought about kissing her, but the thought of Scott was still lingering in the back of his mind so instead he lifted away quickly and was surrounded by bodies and cheering.

He spat the lime wedge out and someone was ruffling at his hair, someone else was pulling at his arm and when he looked over at Allison she was zipping her costume back up and was grinning at him with amusement in her eyes.

With all the attention he was receiving he felt as if he were the main act at a concert, people he had never even met before celebrating what he'd just done.

But before he could retain himself and bring his breathing back to its normal steadiness, people were grabbing at his waist and upper body and hauling him up onto the bench. His weak limbs tried to flail about in protest at what he knew was coming, but it was as if part of his brain was fighting against him. The sober part wanted to push everyone away and jump off the bench and run for the heavens, but the drunk part (which was more so 90% of his brain now) was letting his back fall against the bench, waiting for his partner to step forward as a new shot and lime wedge was being placed next to him.

He stared up at the roof and felt as if he were dozing off on a hospital bed, veins and blood full of drugs and medicine and blurry and unfamiliar faces, looking like floating head, stared down at him. He heard the yelling and enthusiastic chants heighten which indicated to him that someone had finally volunteered to do the body shot off of him, and when he forced his neck to crane itself to the side, his whole body fell limp like the medicine that was injected into his body was finally catching up to him and it would only be seconds before the doctor would place the oxygen mask over his mouth.

Scott was standing there, face as pink as Stiles has been all day, smile nervous and eyes shaking. They stared at each other for what felt like minutes, but in reality was only seconds because then suddenly someone was tugging at the hem of his shirt and he was letting it be pulled over his head. He didn’t bother to protest. One, because there would be no point and two, because Scott was about to do a fucking body shot off of him.

He was suddenly cold, regretting complaining to himself earlier about the constant heat and sweat because now he was craving it. He didn't dare look at Scott, not trusting the cloudy and unstable part of his brain to control his actions and words if they made eye contact again. Instead, he waited with a tense mind and body for what was going to come next. Though Stiles could not collect his thoughts, he couldn't figure out what had caused this. Scott? Scott wanted to do a body shot off of him? He must've been watching Stiles do one off Allison. Maybe he was pressured to do this. These people in the crowd were crazy and drunk off the idea of partying insanely. Stiles almost wanted to yell for him to stop. If this wasn't Scott's own choice to do this, their relationship would never be the same. And Stiles has never been good at confrontation so he would have a hard time trying to fix the awkward and uncomfortable air that would linger between them.

Stiles could see Lydia's red hair to the other side of him, he tried to subtly look at her but once his eyes were on her he could not pull them away. She was full on smirking at him. One side of her lips pulled up, eyebrows waggling. He would ask what the hell that was supposed to mean later. Even though he was sure he knew already.

He sucked in the deepest breath he could possibly take and once exhaled, as if on perfect queue, Scott's face was hovering over his. His breath was no longer minty, it smelt like alcohol and potato chips. He wasn't sure which smell he preferred to associate with Scott anymore.

He was smiling at him but Stiles could hardly smile back. Stiles could hardly move any feature on his face, no matter how badly he wanted, he felt as if he was made of stone. Scott's eyebrows furrowed for only a moment, recovering himself as he slowly and steadily moved down until his lips were teasing at the skin right under Stiles' jaw. His breath fluttered at the spot there, sending a chill down his neck and spine. It was as if Scott had just discovered a new sensitive spot for him. Stiles almost moaned at the thought.

Without any warning, and even though he knew it was coming, the feeling of Scott's tongue on his neck sent himself into shock. Or maybe it was pleasure. Stiles' brain wasn't functioning well enough to decipher any feelings right now. Scott's tongue was wet and soft against his skin, the tip of it teasing at the spot right under his jawline, his lips chapped and delicate on his skin. He slid the tip gently down his neck until he reached near the middle where he applied more pressure into licking moisture all the way down to his collarbone. Stiles felt a lump form in his throat and he held it there, not daring to swallow with Scott so damn close to him. Stiles almost felt as if he was becoming claustrophobic with the fact that Scott was crowding at the space between his face and his bare torso. He still hadn't looked down at what was happening, not trusting himself in the slightest.

Scott had licked back up and down once more before finally moving away and sprinkling salt down the expanse of his neck. Stiles finally swallowed. Three times.

Scott grabbed the shot and looked at Stiles who didn't even realise he was looking back until he watched the side of Scott's lips tug up at the corner into a sly smirk, and he was sure he winked at him. Or maybe it was just his mind playing a trick on him. Though he prayed to god it wasn't.

When Scott moved away from the top half of his body, vanishing from Stiles' vision as he was lying down fully with his head back and could not see what was going on, he leant up on his elbows just as Allison had and was taken aback when he saw what he was definitely not in the slightest expecting.

His hazmat suit had been pulled all the way down to his knees, and his heart stopped in his chest almost enough for him to lose all consciousness because, well, he did not at all remember that happening.

Scott was next to his legs and he was looking down at them with hungry eyes. Stiles felt all the blood rush from his head down to his lower half, making him desperate for air as lay his head back down, feeling relief when his skin made contact with the cold marble.

Stiles' legs felt numb, as if a truck had landed on the midst of his body, causing his lower half to lose all feeling. But that was not enough for Stiles as he could still feel when Scott placed his hand gently on his thigh, squeezing there for a moment before placing the shot right beneath his crotch, between his thighs. Stiles let a moan slip from the back of his throat, glad the music was still at his peak as no one but himself was able to hear him.

Scott left his hand resting on his thigh as he reached up to carefully place the lime wedge into Stiles' mouth which he squeezed gently with his teeth to keep it steady. He wanted to spit it out in reaction as Scott ran his hand up his leg, fingers sliding over the waistband of his boxers and landing in the center of his torso, because Stiles did not trust himself. With this lime wedge gripped with his teeth he was capable of losing himself and squeezing the slice too hard that the juice would squirt out into Scott's eyes. Stiles almost laughed and cried at the image. He had a tendency of ruining everything good going him, so he had to work all of his brain power on keeping the lime wedge lightly settled with his teeth.

"Ready?" Scott asked with a husky voice and as if the words controlled him, he nodded back quickly making Scott chuckle. Stiles almost forgot there were people watching until he caught a flash, as if from a camera, in his peripheral vision. If it wasn't Scott there, right now, his hand on his chest and face leaning towards his neck, Stiles might have protested in any pictures being taken. But pictures were good. It would remind Stiles later just how real all of this is.

Scott's tongue hit his neck and he was licking the salt off in a few swift flicks before dragging his tongue and parted lips all the way down to his collarbone to suck at the small spot there. Stiles groaned again and couldn't help but wonder how drunk Scott was, or even how drunk he was himself. Were they going to be able to remember this in the morning? He wasn't sure what answer he wanted to be true.

He lifted himself up again to watch as Scott kissed once by his left nipple then again by his belly button, then licking the tip of his tongue at the very top edge of his waistband. This definitely wasn't the way to do a body shot. Definitely not to your best friend. Scott was undeniably off his face, Stiles thought.

Scott breathed in and out heavily as his face hovered over the shot, right next to his crotch and he could tell that Scott knew exactly what the tickle of his breath would do to him. He had to use all the strength his body had left to keep his legs from shaking or from his head from tipping back in complete and utter pleasure.

Scott grabbed the shot with his mouth and hurriedly chugged it back, taking it out with one hand and wiping his lips with the other.

Stiles' heart almost collapsed against his spine as he realised what part was next, but his thoughts weren't even able to bring themselves to order, not even for a split second, because Scott was already grabbing and sucking at the lime in his mouth, his tequila tasting lips only just touching Stiles'.

Stiles held himself back from lifting his head up to make their lips touch just that much more that may have considered it a kiss, but Scott was already pulling away, spitting out the lime wedge and throwing his arms up in victory.

As if watching the movement of his arms being thrown up in the air triggered something in his mind, all the sounds around him started to become clear again, the sudden blast of music and voices deafening him. He hadn't even realised that he had muted everything out. Stiles felt weird and out of place now that it was all over. He felt like a machine, like someone had just switched him back onto normal mode and his heart was beating again - though not at a healthy pace - his hearing was impaired and though he could hardly think straight, he could move. So he did.

He jumped off the bench with a stumble and didn't look back as he pushed his way into the bathroom to throw up in the sink.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. two.

It was hard to tell if he could see black or white. It was a mixture. A mixture of brightness splashed with splotches of darkness and uncertainty. He wasn’t able to understand how his mind was working enough to decipher if he were asleep or dreaming.  He could feel his throat, the scratchiness and dry insides causing him uncomfortable pain. The inside of his mouth tasted bitter and nauseating, lips chapped and eyelids locked down over his vision like stone gates. He could hear clangs in the distance, birds outside his window and feel the softness under his head. His head that felt so heavy that he knew he would not be able to lift it to see the tips of his toes. His head that felt as if there was someone inside, banging and thrashing at his skull, screaming to get out. He was definitely awake. Though, he wished he wasn’t.

When his whole body caught up with his foggy brain, he started to feel around with his palms to try and make out where he was exactly.

He knew he was resting on a pillow, the comforting softness that surrounded his agonizing top half being of great help. He could feel soft fabric under his touch, the thin material gathering and creasing under his hand as he moved it back and forth, grabbing at it gently and rubbing it between his fingers.

He could feel like thick duvet resting on half of his body and could hear the distinctive sound it made when he moved his legs.

A groan rumbled at the back of throat at the sound of knocking at his door, his moral instincts being at their peak.

He knew he was in his bed but how he got there was of great mystery to him and it was something his brain wasn’t able to function up enough rational thoughts about.

His ears rang louder as a clatter sounded next to him, the aroma of bacon and eggs tingling at his senses, his eyes shot open. His brain protested.

“Morning, son.” His dad’s face was half hovering over his own, sympathetic smile and eyes dominating his features. Stiles wanted to puke.

He groaned again, this time louder and with the movement of twisting his body around so he could eye out the breakfast sitting on his desk with a roaring stomach.

“How are you feeling?”

Stiles knew his dad was quite aware of just how he was feeling. He has had to help his did with mornings like this many times before (He thanked god that those days were long, long gone.) and he was sure by the state he was in that it wasn’t hard to figure out.

“Delightful.” He managed to mumble out, eyes closing again yet re-opening when his smell would catch another whiff of bacon.

His dad chuckled and took a sit near the lower half of his body, a hand coming up to rest on his leg.

“You look like a train wreck. And I see a lot of people that look like train wrecks, daily.”

It was Stiles’ turn to laugh now, or more so attempt to laugh, “Wow. Thanks dad. Lovely thing to hear first thing in the morning.”

His dad sighed, “It’s almost 2 in the afternoon.”

Stiles decided to ignore that and instead struggled his way into an upward sitting position, his dads hands hovering near him as if to help if Stiles were to flop off his bed and collapse head first into the floor. It sounded ridiculous, but he could clearly imagine it happening.

His dad grabbed for his tray full of breakfast, beating Stiles to it, and gently placing it on his lap.

“Jeez, dad. If I knew you could cook up a breakfast like this I would have skipped the sleep-ins and bowls of cereal years ago.”

His dad laughed, “As if. I didn’t cook this. Melissa did.”

Stiles’ hand froze halfway to his mouth, lips parted and bacon juice dripping from his fork onto his plate. “Melissa did? Melissa McCall? Melissa, Scott’s mum Melissa?”

“How many other Melissa’s do we know Stiles?” His features were a mix of confusion and amusement, “Yes, of course it’s Melissa McCall. Scott’s mother.”

Stiles shoved the piece of bacon in his mouth. “Well?” He said between frantic chewing and a flick of his fork. His eyes were bugging and he wore a face of agitation. It wasn’t unlike his dad to need to be asked to explain things in depth, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still bug Stiles. No matter how used to it he was.

“Well? Well. You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

Stiles swallowed. His brain churned and burned as he tried to dig deep into the depths of his memories of last night. It was all frustratingly blurry and foggy, only fragments of last nights (or this mornings) events becoming visible to him. He remembers costumes, he remembers lights, he remembers alcohol – and lots of it. He definitely recalls body shots. Allison, Scott. Lots of Scott. Scott licking him, Scott touching him, holding him. Then he remembers Derek. Remembers Derek’s hands on Scott, his mouth on Scott’s as he took the lime wedge from his mouth. He remembers the small kiss they shared after it. After that, he couldn’t remember anything much else. He couldn’t remember things clearly enough to be certain if they actually happened or if he were just imagining it. It hurts to think too hard, a thump still defeating his skull. But he’s sure there was a lot of dancing. Grinding, if he wanted to be specific. He could slightly see faces. Jackson? Danny? He tries to remember grinding with Scott but the image of him and Derek decides to dominate his mind instead. He shuts his eyes tightly as a lump forms in his throat.

“Stiles?” He feels a hand on his thigh. “Stiles? Are you alright?”

Stiles exhales a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding. His eyes are open again and he’s digging back into his food despite the swirl of his insides. “Fine. Just had a moment. I think I’m still drunk.”

His dad snorted, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

He looked down embarrassed then, picking at the toast with his fingers. His dad had never seen him this wrecked before and that thought was staring to hit him hard. He didn’t like to show his vulnerability around people too often. He wasn’t a big fan of being seen as weak, or sick. Or just unable to take care of himself in general.

“What did happen last night? I don’t even remember coming home.” He pauses before looking back up at his dad, nervousness taking over the blood in his body. Did he even want to know? He thinks he does. He wants to know a lot of things now that he really thinks about it. Where was Scott? Was he with Derek? Did they come home together? Why was Melissa here? And why the fuck was Derek doing a shot off Scott and why did he let him kiss him? A truck of questions unloaded in his head as if the inside of his brain were a dumpster for them. He wished he just didn’t have to think for 5 minutes. That his brain would just go blank so he could give it time to breathe. He thought about ditching his breakfast and the answers he were about to receive from his dad, but sleeping meant dreaming. He couldn’t escape his mind and that scared him for a mmoment.

“Well.” His dad pushed himself further up the bed as if to get more comfortable. Stiles’ stomach flipped.

“I get a call from Scott at about, 2 am? Some ridiculous hour like that. And he’s slurring. At first I thought it was a prank call until I could actually put together and understand the words he was trying to say. He was telling me you had passed out. By this time, I was already in my car and putting my own life in danger by speeding all the way to this party.”

Stiles didn’t remember passing out and he was glad he didn’t. His dad was watching him the whole time while talking, though Stiles himself couldn’t muster up enough courage to look back. He continued eating slowly instead.

“Scott and some other guy were holding you up when I got th-“

“What other guy? Who? What did he look like?” He felt his blood boil at the sight of Derek helping him. All of his feelings were starting to flow in a more straight consistency and he could feel every inch of anger now, every inch of anger towards Derek. He felt like it wasn’t his place to get so worked up over this, because Scott wasn’t even his. But it wasn’t easy for him to forget that. Not with these new erratic, bold and strong emotions he felt towards Scott that he just couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Oh uh,” His dad rubbed the back of his neck, “Jack? Jake? Jas-“

“Jackson?”

“Yes! Yeah. The Whittemore kid.”

“Okay. Good. Go on.” His dad raised a perplexed eyebrow at that but continued nonetheless.

“Right. So they helped you into my car, oh and I had called Melissa by this time. Telling her I’d bring her drunk son home. But by the time we got back here, she was standing outside the door and next thing I know we’re all inside, you’re still passed out except now you’re on your bed, Scott is throwing up and Melissa is sleeping on the couch. After taking care of Scott, of course. It was all a mess. But long story short, I brought you and Scott’s drunk ass home. You’re welcome.”

Stiles pushed the tray off his lap and licked at his salty fingers. His gaze darted up at his dad and his heart jumped a beat at the thought of Scott being here at his house. He wondered how bad Scott’s hangover was, if he was awake, if he was eating breakfast now too.

“Thanks, dad. Really.”

He grunted, “Sure. Just not again, okay? You scared the absolute crap out of me.”

He forced out a laugh, the air between them definitely needing a lift away from all the seriousness. “Fuck, hell no. Never again. No more alcohol, ever. I feel dead.”

His dad laughed then, patting his leg and shaking his head. “Go have a shower. You smell like sweaty teens and throw up.”

Stiles smiled despite the rude throw of words. His dad got up with his food-less dishes in his hand and before completely leaving his room, turned around and caught his observation. “Happy Halloween, Stiles.”

He flashed his teeth back, “Yeah. Happy Halloween.” It was only then that Stiles remembered that today was actually the day of Halloween and he was going to have to deal with little kids ringing at his doorbell, expecting free treats. He can remember doing that frequently with Scott. They’d always come home with a big pumpkin bucket full of chocolate and lollies that they’d sit on the floor and eat while a scary movie played in the background. Scott would give Stiles his Snickers bars and Stiles would give him his lollipops. It was always just Scott. Every god damn thought was Scott. Every memory. Scott. And Scott was here. He was here in the same house, under the same roof and yet they weren’t in the same room together. The thought felt too peculiar. It was much too unfamiliar for them to be in the same place yet not be centimeters away from each other. The only time this would really happy would be at school, when they had different classes. But in Stiles’ own home? No.

His stomach dropped.

He swallowed away the lump in his throat and shimmied down back under his safe and sound covers. A part of him wanted to jump - or in his state, crawl – out of bed and scrub off all of last night’s memories. He also just wanted to move his legs. Move his legs towards wherever Scott was right now. And no matter how much the burning imagine of Scott and Derek was engraved into the middle of his mind, no matter how hard his hands curled into fists or how hard his jaw clenched, he just needed his best friend more than anything right now.

He was a god damn love sick puppy and craved a comforting cuddle from his stupid, un-even jaw, dopey, smells–like-honey-mixed-with-cinnamon best friend slash crush.

His eyes began to feel heavy again and an overpowering darkness took over his sluggish body, the beating sound of his heart echoing in his ears.

***

He wasn’t sure how long he was out when he felt the end of his bed dip, the new extra weight leaning on the back of his calves, a gentle fluttery touch lingering near his knee.

His half asleep body wasn’t in the mood for another father-to-son talk or whatever his dad had in stall. It was probably time for dinner now that Stiles really thought about it. He’s probably missed the first few come and goers of the trick-or-treaters.

Stiles mumbled into his pillow and wiped his drool covered chin before turning to lay on his back, eyes still shut.

“Dad, go away.”

When he didn’t answer and he could still feel the contact between their two bodies he groaned and rubbed his eyes with his fists.

“Dad, I’ll come down for dinner soon. 5 more minutes.” He turned on his side again, yawn loud and contagious.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, his dad not saying a word or moving. And the inside of his skull still felt like it had been filled with sand, his rude awakening making it difficult to interpret every racing thought.

But it wasn’t long before he opened his eyes and stared at the wall next to him. The sudden jump and stumble of his heart beat had his cheeks redden, his whole body stiffen, his lips dry.

The steady breathing he could hear from the body next to him started to be replaced by a constant annoying ring in his ear. He began to realize the situation he was in. He felt stupid for not realizing it earlier.

He could probably see his eyes were open, Stiles thought. Could probably hear the irrational and unhealthy thumping of his heart, see the flush that trickled down to his fingertips. These thoughts only made it all worse.

“Stiles.” His name was barely even spoken. A gust in the air, much softer than a whisper. Hardly even audible yet Stiles heard it loud and clear like a megaphone to his eardrum. And he could recognize that voice in a crowd full of shouting.

 He turned, eyes wide yet unable to meet Scott’s. He couldn’t quite concentrate on where he was looking, nothing in the room wanted to co-operate with the nervous flicker of his eyes.

“Stiles.” He repeated, louder this time but with a husky sense to it that Stiles decided he was now in love with.

His eyes landed on the hand resting on his leg.

“Stiles, look at me.” He didn’t.

“Look at me, please.” He blinked more times than necessary.

Scott sighed frustratingly and without any sort of warning Stiles had two hands grabbing at each side of his face, his head being controlled to look at Scott’s face that was now only inches away from his. His eyes looked worn-out, nervous and what Stiles didn’t want to admit – sad.

“Are you done being a dickhead?”

He wanted to fight back at that, yell at Scott and tell him he was the ultimate dickhead in all of this. But instead he just nodded his head which caused the contact to drop away from him. He exhaled in relief.

“Stiles I wanna talk to you.”

“You are talking to me.”

“I know, but like. I wanna talk about things and explain stuff.”

“Why are you still in your costume?”

“What? Fuck, Stiles. What? God. I could ask you the same thing.”

Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed and he stared down at his bare arms in confusion then lifted up his blankets to see his yellow hazmat suit scrunched up at his waist. He almost laughed.

“You win.”

It was Scott’s eyebrows’ turn to furrow now. He looked like a confused puppy. Stiles wasn’t sure if he liked it or loved it. He was pretty certain it was the latter.

“I won what?”

Stiles breathed out a laugh then, “take out the ‘what’ and you have an iconic Heisenberg quote.”

“Can you-“Scott rubbed his temple and sighed, “Can you not do that? For like, 5 fucking minutes?”

“Do what?”

“Just let me talk, okay?”

“You are talking…”

“Shut up Stiles!”

His eyes automatically found their way searching for his door and his heart slowed when he saw it was shut. The last thing he wanted for his dad, or Scott’s mum, to come up here and make the situation any worse than it is already. He wasn’t a big fan of Scott being mad at him, but for some reason he couldn’t really give a shit at this moment. Because all of this irritation being thrown towards him with words was just making him remember why he was also mad at Scott. And the thought that he didn’t even have the right to be wasn’t even relevant to him anymore.

“You know, Scott. I’m not always going to do what you say.”

Scott rolled in eyes in response, “Whatever. Okay. Can we just have a relaxed and civil conversation?”

“It was pretty relaxed and civil to me, until you know, you yelled at me to shut up.”

Scott complained with an audible growl and his hands turn to fists and connected with Stiles’ thigh. The punch didn’t hurt itself, but just seeing Scott make that action towards him hurt the most. And fuck. He almost wanted to cry.

“What the fuck was that!” He was sitting up now, rubbing his thigh and glaring at Scott with daggers. He held the look as long as he could, despite Scott’s sorrowful eyes and hanging mouth.

“I-I’m so sorry Stiles. I just. Fuck. I don’t know. Fuck I shouldn’t have punched you I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.”

Stiles shook his head, “What did Derek do to you? You hook up with him for one night and now your some violent monster?”

“Derek? Wh- Wait. What?! No! Derek isn’t violent and he did nothing to me- and hook up? Shit Stiles, can you hear yourself right now?”

He scoffed, “I saw it all, Scotty. I saw the body shot and the kissing. Don’t even begin to tell me you two didn’t do more after that.”

“And what if we did? Why would that even matter to you?”

They were both breathing hard through their noses, anger evident in their body language and the way they didn’t realise they were intently glaring at one another.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It wouldn’t matter to me – nothing! I don’t care.”

“That doesn’t-“Scott took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment and tried to lower his tone before he continued on, “Look. We did not hook up. It was a drunken kiss. I hardly even saw him after that. And Stiles, I don’t think you remember much because from I can recall I did a body shot off you and we kissed too. Does that mean that we hooked up?”

Stiles was shocked. He didn’t remember kissing Scott. Well. He could vaguely remember their lips touching when he took the lime wedge from his mouth but he didn’t think he’d count that as a kiss. But hell, if Scott did, then why the hell not. He kissed Scott.

He felt his heart rate slow down and it was stupid that he was overthinking this now, with the rising tension and angry air still lingering between them. But knowing that Scott thought they’d kissed, knowing that he remembers doing the body shot off of him and that he and Derek did not hook up, so he says, made him feel like his body was partially back down on earth. That his mind could stop racing for just a moment and he could stop being a smartass towards his best friend.

“I remember. No, we didn’t hook up.” Stiles was surprised when Scott’s face didn’t soften at the sound of, what Stiles thought, was softness in his tone. He grew scared of what was coming next.

Scott crossed his legs and moved himself fully on the bed, jaw set and gaze steady.

“So you remember that. You remember my body shot with you, my body shot with Derek and. You get angry over it? Jeez, Stiles. You have a lot of nerve to be angry over something like that.”

“What?” Stiles spat.

“Oh, so – okay. You don’t remember making out with Jackson? Grinding in between him and Danny, exchanging candy through Isaac’s mouth? You were a teenage boy raging sexual frustration last night, Stiles. And you have the nerve accuse me of hooking up with one boy?”

“I-“ Stiles felt his stomach do one-hundred summersaults, felt something crawl up the back of his throat and he had to squeeze his eyes shut and breathe deeply to keep whatever was coming up to stay down. He didn’t remember any of it. Yes, very blurry silhouettes and maybe the feeling of connecting lips but not even to recite it as well as Scott did. He didn’t want to open his eyes.

“I didn’t remember. I can’t.” He choked up, squeezing his eyes tighter to let the dribble of moisture escape from his tear duct. He wanted Scott to punch him again. He felt like a 12 year old.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

They both stayed silent for a long amount of time. Stiles opened his eyes eventually and Scott was blurry in front of him caused by the weakness of his feelings that made the tears start to accumulate around his vision. He wiped them away quickly with the back of his hand but instantly knew trying to cover it up was useless. He was wide in the open. Every change of colour in his skin, every feeling and emotion radiating off his body for Scott to see with his own eyes and grasp to keep in his memories.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed out again after the silence. He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for this time. But he’s pretty sure it was for everything.

“Yeah.” Scott moved then. He moved so he could sit right next to Stiles, between Stiles and the wall. “It’s okay.”

His hand hovered over his thigh like a natural instinct and he hesitated before landing it there softly, squeezing at the flesh and patting it twice. He kept it there, though, and Stiles could almost feel the weight lift off of his shoulders.

“No- no Scott. It’s really not. I’m a terrible friend. I don’t even know what’s like, going on. I don’t. We don’t fight like this, Scotty. Not over kissing other people.”

“It’s okay.”

“Stop saying that and say the truth. Say I’m a terrible friend.”

“You’re not a terrible friend. You’re over-reacting. We’re both over-reacting. It’s okay.”

He looked over at Scott, his eyes pleading. And he wasn’t even sure what for.

“You’re too fucking nice to me, Scott.”

He got a small smile back and another squeeze from his hand.

“I know. But, yeah, you know. All you did was kiss a few boys and dance with them. You were drunk. It’s whatever.”

“And you too. Yeah. You were drunk. Derek was drunk. Everyone was in the mood for body shots. I just – I just felt mad for reasons I can’t even explain myself.

“Really?” Scott tilted his head in interest, “there’s no explanation for the random act of _grind on me boys, no no – not you hot girl in the nurse outfit_ or _kiss the living shit out of me Jackson who I hardly ever speak to._ No explanation for any of it? Just, you know, you were drunk right?”

His cheeks burned off. Well. In the little scenario that just flashed in his mind his whole body couldn’t take the rushing blood, constant heat and bright pink flush that his skin just melted away and he didn’t have to deal with this crazy, unexplainable desire to just jump all over his best friend right now.

 Stiles laughed nervously and Scott just watched with amusement in his eyes. He hated his life.

“Huh, I – yeah. Huh. Funny that.”

“Funny what?” Scott replied with instantly.

And Stiles suddenly didn’t give a shit. Okay, well he gave a whole damn lot of shits but he was kind of over all these feelings right now. These words and emotions that were gnawing at the back of his throat and the pit of his stomach. He was sick of being too scared to touch Scott back. He was sick of not being himself around him the way he was only just a week or two ago. And Scott’s stupid long slender fingers were wrapped around his thigh and they were both still in their Breaking Bad costumes and everything in this moment was just right. The air was thick with forgiveness and lust and gazing eyes. They were close enough to feel one another’s breath on their cheeks. Scott was there, Stiles was here and everything slotted into place like he’s never felt it better.

“Funny that it was your fault.” Stiles smiled cheekily so Scott wouldn’t interject with something formed by a new bubbling rage, “I mean. Alright, so here’s the thing I guess. It goes like this. Now don’t, like don’t fucking run away until I’m finished, okay Scott? Don’t. Like don’t talk until I get this all out. Because I need this. I need this out of me before it eats me alive. Okay?”

Scott nodded. Stiles almost passed out.

“When I saw you and Derek, I was upset. I mean. I don’t know. I liked it when you did the body shot. To me. On me. Whatever term you say it in. I enjoyed it. But I didn’t enjoy watching Derek do the same thing to you. I felt like, betrayed or something? Which is extremely hypocritical since I did it to Allison. And I don’t know. I was mad. Since Derek is all brooding and glowing sexy-godliness and everything. And I’m just a grain of sand. Or some sad comparison like that. Anyway,” He let out a breath and looked up to see if Scott was still listening. And he was. His face seemed closer than it was before Stiles looked down in nervousness.

“I guess when I think back to it now, I did all of those things to get back at you? Like. I wanted you to be jealous of me like I was jealous of you because. Fuck. I was jealous, okay? I hated seeing someone do stuff like that to you. I felt like I should be doing that. I felt like you were, I don’t know, cheating on me? So I just had to get my mind off of it and do all that stupid shit. Fuck, Scott. I love you. You’re my best friend you mean so much to me it’s fucking scary. This morning when my dad told me you were here but like not here, here, like in my room now – it just felt weird. Us being under the same roof but not actually being together, you know? It was weird. I hated it.”

Scott lifted his hand off Stiles’ thigh and instead snaked it behind his back and grabbed at his waist, pulling him in closely so their bodies slotted together like perfect puzzle pieces. His head automatically planted itself on Scott’s shoulder like it belonged there and his legs found themselves tangled with Scott’s.

His breaths were jagged, his forehead was sweaty but all he could feel was _Scott Scott Scott._

“I’m in love with you, Scott.”

The weight that was once half lifted from his shoulders now completely floated away with ease and even though Scott hadn’t replied back instantly, the tightness of his hold told him more than words could have.

“This is the scariest Halloween I’ve ever experienced.” Stiles said, breaking the silence.

A laugh rumbled in Scott’s throat and found its way past his lips, the bouncing of his body making Stiles’ do the same.

“God, Stiles. I was going to be romantic as shit and kiss the living day lights out of you and tell you that I’m in love with you too but you go and say that.”

Stiles was laughing too now, and he nuzzled once more into the crook of Scott’s neck before looking up so their eyes found each other’s as if they were magnetically paired to function that way.

“I think that was a pretty romantic way of saying it back. You know how much I love my awkward romantic comedies.”

“Oh shut up you cute bitch and kiss me.”

Stiles almost leaned in before smirking, “Still in character, huh Jesse?”

Scott rolled his amused eyes, “If roleplaying is your thing I am definitely up for it later.”

Stiles’ breath hitched and he nodded with an unstable eagerness which earned more musical laughter to fill up Stiles’ ears. God, he really fucking loved Scott. And he couldn’t even put together enough words for what he was feeling right now. His mind felt dull yet full of stupidly smitten love and all he could feel was happy. True and utter happiness and S _cott_ and love and everything Stiles’ has never felt in his whole lifetime.

“I won.” Stiles said before they tasted one another for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...that's the end. omg i dont even know what this fic even is i just wrote it and finished it and here we are now

**Author's Note:**

> HI thanks for making it to the end ur a rockstar. please let me know what you thought! 
> 
> if you want you can follow/chat to me on my [tumblr](http://leodicatprio.tumblr.com/) :-)


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